new_albion_vtmfandomcom-20200213-history
2018.07.12: ooc: Marcus and Mr Gordon
Marcus Antoninus04/15/2018 Marcus checks his watch - a Brietling GMT to the keen-eyed observer - and straightens his tie. He has arrived exactly at the appointed time, and strides to the receptionist. "Mr. Antoninus, to see Mr. Gordon. He is expecting me this time." Doris Ashview (ST Euryale)04/15/2018 He is directed to the appropriate elevator, which sends him to an entirely different part of the building. Mr. Gordon is, indeed, waiting for him. Mr. Gordon04/15/2018 The elevator went up, up, up... And it stopped, just sort of the penthouse. The door would open... And reveal Kenna Baird. The Gangrel's burning yellow eyes soaked themselves into Antoninus. "Mr. Antoninus." She takes a deep sniff of the air around him. "You will impress the Prince tonight, I hope." she states. It was unclear if she meant to have that be a question or a threat or merely an idle statement. What tether she had to the mortal world was periolously thin. She stepped onto the elevator, falling into a Parade rest. She glances about. "Notice the Mirrors, Mr. Antoninus?" she asks, a head tilt towards a massive mirror that was actually on the elevator itself. "Why do you think Mr. Gordon wants people to be looking at themselves on the way up to greet him?" Marcus Antoninus04/15/2018 Marcus pauses for a moment, and considers his words before replying. "Ms. Baird, a wise man once suggested that one consider removing the plank in their own eye before reaching for the speck in the eye of another. Were I to hazard a guess, I would think that Mr. Gordon is sending a similar message on the importance of self-reflection. Alternatively.." he pauses, chuckling to himself "he may merely be giving those who seek an audience a last chance to straighten their tie." While he does not reach for his tie at this time, he does stop for a moment, looking into his own eyes in the mirror as the elevator rises. Mr. Gordon04/15/2018 She smiles softly. The visible fangs just barely peek out. "I think you've got the most of it. A man lies worst to himself. Many think themselves about to say something clever to set the Prince upon his backside. They will be the ones to offer a shoulder, or outsmart the Baron of Glasgow" She squints at him. "The Mirror reminds them of their... We'll call it humanity." she shrugs. "One more, more obvious reason." she taps the mirror with a sharp claw. "... Lasombra don't cast a reflection. Easy way to know if this elevator should get to the Penthouse... Then dropped to terminal velocity." she laughs at herself as the door opens. The boardroom awaits. To call it a boardroom is almost a discervice. The term "War Room" may be more fitting. A massive obsidian table stretched easily twenty feet, with sleek, modern leather chairs for seating. Hand-written cards with the names of every Ventrue in the city were placed there. Atoninus, being the clever man he was, would notice that the seating appeared to be based on seniority. At one End was a Gilded Card marking the currently absent Prince. On the other, a seat for the Chairman of the Board. The 'Praetor' of Ventrue Inner-clan machinations. Caius was already present, and seated at that very chair. Various other Ventrue would be sitting down, and Atoninus would find his card near the middle of the table, farthest from both Prince and Praetor. Kenna had no card, and instead stood to the immedate back right of Gordon's empty chair. Marcus Antoninus04/15/2018 Marcus nods quietly at the reference to the Lasombra (He is quite young still, and has not encountered any where their lack of reflection would show). He enters the room and walks confidently and purposefully towards the far end of the table - knowing his card will be near there. He shakes the hand of those not seated, introducing himself quietly before taking the seat indicated at the table. Mr. Gordon04/15/2018 He shakes the hand of a Kindred named O'Neal. He says he does private security under Ajax Couronne. He gestures to a man speaking in sharp words to Caius quietly, pointing at an open laptop with open derision. Caius shakes his head and waves it away. They become seated as Gordon enters the room. In a far cry from the grand and intimidating persona he has awashed upon the masses of Albion, this Marcus Gordon was far more amicable. His blue eyes lapped all he purveyed with a quiet appreciation, and offered a gesture of genuine thanks as his seat was made open for him. For a moment, his eyes set upon Antoninus... And it is clear every milimetere of the man was up for formal review. He leaned back in his chair, and gestures the meeting to begun. Caius began with formal call to order, and check of attendance. Antoninus had some time before he was called, and he noted that he was both the most recent arrival and likely the Youngest Kindred there. The spotlight of the boardroom burned hot. Category:Logs